Whirling around found her face to trunk with the great, old ash and all of its flowers.

Which there was, somewhere underneath all else that grew there, still an ash tree underneath. One as calm and fulfilled as ever a tree could have been, there for what had become of it in the many decades it had lived and grown and shared itself.

Summer could see the blossoms as blossoms.

But at the same time, through the same image.

There were what her true sight told her were... children?

Thousands of them.

Gleamy little points of light all looking out after her in curiosity.

So that wasn't exactly the breeze there stirring the petals closer her hair.

(OOC: remember how Shades reproduce via growing flowers? Other Aethies do that too.)